


Florean Fortescue The Third

by QueenofThyme



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Amortentia, Diagon Alley, Firewhisky, Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, M/M, Veritaserum, and other magical flavours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-08 17:15:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16433555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenofThyme/pseuds/QueenofThyme
Summary: Florean Forestcue The Third or "GET IT FORTESCUE BOY" follows the story of the grandson of Florean Fortescue and his attempts to run his ice cream parlour in peace. When new regulars, Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter, begin to shamelessly flirt with him, Florean the third uses his grandfather's famous flavours and his own quick powers of deduction to stop both customers bothering him once and for all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chibaken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibaken/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHICKEN BAKE! Since your legendary ["GET IT FORTESCUE BOY"](http://alxhmora.tumblr.com/post/177412116390/queenofthyme-he-had-sweat-in-places-he-wasnt) is the sole reason this fic exists, I gift it to you for your birthday, November Third. I am so glad we are best friends.

Florean Fortescue the Third always enjoyed working in his grandfather’s ice cream parlour. Florean Forestcue _the First_ was a kind and generous man, who had no time for elitism or pureblood mania. When Florean the Third’s father (I’m sure you can guess his name) disowned him for being a squib, his grandfather took him in without question, raising him as his own. 

The ice cream parlour was Florean’s only connection to the magical world and he was proud to now own it and continue to serve his grandfather’s famous flavours. The magic, Florean’s grandfather had told him, was in the love that ran through the walls of the parlour, through the kitchen and through the people who occupied it every day. Making the ice cream in the back didn’t require a wand or magical aptitude because the love was in every room, his grandfather would say. Florean suspected that Florean Fortescue the First had simply charmed the ice cream maker but he had always denied it. Now he was gone, lost to the war and somehow the magic still worked. 

Florean the Third, like his grandfather, was well liked in Diagon Alley. Most of his customers were regulars, workers from the shops in the area, but he had his fair share of passers-through as well, especially in the Summer. 

On a particularly hot Summer’s day, a man Florean had never seen before entered the parlour. He was wearing long black robes that couldn’t have been worn comfortably without a strategic cooling charm. His eyes were pale blue – almost grey – and his hair the same platinum blonde as Florean’s. It was already obvious from the way the man carried himself that he was going to be hard work. Even so, Florean plastered on his best smile. 

“How can I help– ”

“One scoop, no cone, Clever Caramel,” the man said in one breath, running his eyes over the flavours beneath the counter. 

“That’s one galleon, seven sickles, please,” Florean said as he began scooping the flavour.

“No it’s not,” the man argued, his head snapping up, “that’s ridiculous!”

Florean placed the one-scoop cup on the counter. “Sorry, sir, but yes it is.”

The man softened immediately. “Sir,” he repeated with a lazy smile. “I like that.” He reached for the cup, leaning over the counter far more than necessary. “You have the most wonderful green eyes, by the way.”

“That’s still one galleon, seven sickles.”

The man straightened up and dropped a hand into the pocket of his robe, fishing for coins. “Well, alright,” he said, throwing two galleons onto the counter. “But only because you asked nicely.”

“That’s how goods and services work,” Florean muttered as the man walked away. He hadn’t waited for change. 

Later that same day, Harry Potter, one of Florean’s recent regulars, arrived. He had been turning up just before close almost daily for the past week.

“Hi Florean, how are you?” Harry asked politely as he approached the counter. 

“Good, sir.”

“No, don’t call me that,” Harry said making a face. “You can call me Harry, you know.”

Florean did know. Harry had insisted on it since his first visit.

“Alright, _Harry_ ,” Florean said to humour him, “what would you like today?”

“I don’t think I have the energy to tackle the Tarantallegra Treacle again.  What would you suggest?”

“The Stunning Strawberry is quite popular,” Florean lied. 

“But what flavour is _your_ favourite?”

“All flavours at Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour are of utmost quality.”

“You’re cute. I’ll take the Stunning Strawberry.”

“Literally just doing my job,” Florean said under his breath as he picked up a cone and began scooping Harry’s ice cream. Hopefully, the Stunning Strawberry would keep him quiet for the rest of his visit. 

A few days later, the blonde haired man with the impractical black robes returned. He stood outside the Parlour, peering in, and only entered when he locked eyes with Florean.

“Clever Caramel, no cone again?” Florean asked as he approached the counter. 

The man nodded. “Do you remember everyone’s orders or am I special?”

“I remember everyone's orders,” Florean said flatly, scooping the caramel ice cream into a cup. 

“You’re prickly,” the man said. “I like that.”

“That’s one galleon, seven sickles, sir.”

“There you go again with that sir.”

“Should I be calling you something else?” Florean asked politely. 

“I don’t mind 'sir'. But if you must know, the name’s Malfoy– ” the man paused unnecessarily– “Draco Malfoy.”

“That’s one galleon, seven sickles, Mr Malfoy.”

Draco’s eyes widened and he flashed his teeth in a wide smile. “Oh, I like that.”

The only good thing about Draco was that he didn’t hover. He took his ice cream cup, paid and left the parlour in a hurry as if he always had somewhere else more important to be. 

As Draco left, Harry Potter arrived. Now there was a man who hovered. 

"Good Afternoon, Harry, how are– ”

“Was that Draco Malfoy?” Harry asked, staring out the window.

Florean eyed Draco’s figure briskly walking away. “You know him?”

“We went to school together,” Harry explained, turning away from the window. He looked over the flavours, biting his lip. Then he glanced up hesitantly. “What did he order?”

“What does that matter?”

“It doesn’t,” Harry said quickly. “I’m just curious. He’s– well, he’s difficult to read.”

Florean scanned Harry’s face. For the first time, he seemed too preoccupied to be flirting. This was new. This was good. 

“He orders the Clever Caramel, one scoop, no cone.”

“Figures,” Harry said derisively. Then he sighed. “Alright, I’ll have that too, please. But in a cone. I’m not a prat.”

The prat, as Harry called him, returned the next morning. Florean wondered if he was going to become another regular. He hoped not. 

“The usual?” Florean asked as Draco entered, already hovering over the Clever Caramel. He bopped on the spot a little as he waited, enjoying the latest Weird Sisters track blasting from the parlour’s wireless. 

“No,” Draco said firmly. He scanned the flavours. “I’m looking for something a bit more exciting today. The _Frisky Firewhisky_ maybe?” He peeked up at Florean through his eyelashes. 

“I’d advise against it. That’s a flavour better shared.”

Draco tilted his head as the Weird Sisters faded out. “Maybe you could share it with me?”

Florean had to stop himself from laughing – did Draco really think he was the first to try that line? 

“That wouldn’t– ”

_Harry Potter fans, you’re listening to the right station…_

Draco’s head snapped towards the wireless so fast, Florean paused, mid-rejection.

_…time for our favourite segment, ‘Topless Potter’. Never fear new listeners, just because you can’t see, doesn’t mean you won’t be able to visualise the latest snaps of our saviour in the buff. We know our listeners love hearing our descriptions in excruciating detail and we always aim to please. Thanks to a well-placed cameraman outside The Leaky a couple of nights ago, we have a simply scrumptious shot of our saviour pulling his shirt down after a particularly suspicious exit from a side alley where another famous face was also spotted shortly–_

“REDUCTO.”

The wireless fell from the counter, smashing into pieces. Florean looked up to find Draco, wand-raised and chest heaving with a splatter of colour growing above his cheekbones. Florean took in the reaction with interest, the cogs of possibility already turning in his head. 

Draco dropped his wand and looked down sheepishly. “My sincere apologies. I’ll buy you another wireless of course and I’ll take the Obliviate Orange. Two scoops.” 

When Harry arrived later that day, just before close as usual, Florean was ready. 

“Draco Malfoy’s been here quite a bit recently,” he said casually as Harry looked over the flavours. 

Florean watched as Harry’s shoulders stiffened but he didn’t bite. 

“Does the Polyjuice Pecan really work?”

“It’s fleeting and the likeness isn’t absolute since it’s based off a vision in your head rather than the person’s genetic material,” Florean explained. Then he pointed to the remaining pieces of his wireless. “Draco broke that this morning. I think it was something to do with a segment about you, _Topless_ – ”

“And the Leviosa Lychee – will it really make me levitate?”

“You’ll hover about five centimetres from the ground for twenty minutes or so. You know, Draco ordered the– ”

“I’ll take the Butterbeer Banana,” Harry interrupted, already pulling out his coins. 

Florean scooped Harry’s ice cream with disappointment. He really thought Harry would take the bait. Maybe he’d read the signals wrong. 

Harry took a seat and ate his ice cream in silence which was unlike him. It wasn’t until he was walking out, his hand on the doorknob when he turned around and spoke. “What was it Draco ordered?”

“Obliviate Orange,” Florean answered eagerly. “Two scoops.”

“No cone?”

“No cone,” Florean confirmed.

Harry shook his head. “Merlin, he really is such a prat.”

But from the way he said it, Florean could tell Harry meant the exact opposite. 

Florean got to work after that. He wasn’t sure when Draco would next visit but he knew he had to set things in motion for Draco and Harry to cross paths again, and he knew just the flavours to make the reunion worthwhile too. 

When Draco strutted into the parlour two days later holding the latest state of the art wireless, Florean dived under the counter and grabbed the sign he had created, placing it right by the coin register so it would be impossible to miss. 

**Free autographed Harry Potter ice cream cup with any purchase***  
5.50pm – 6.00pm  
TODAY ONLY 

_*While stocks last. Terms and conditions apply._

Draco stared at the sign for a long moment as he placed the new wireless on the counter. Then he looked up at Florean with an unconvincing blank face. “I have business in the area tonight so you might see me around again.”

His delivery was casual but Florean saw right through it. His suspicions had been correct. Now for phase two of the plan. 

“We have a special on a new flavour today,” Florean said, pointing to the new bright green ice cream beneath the glass of the counter. “Two scoops for the price of one.”

In truth, the flavour wasn’t really new. Florean had found the recipe in his grandfather’s old notes and with the right motivation (and the help of a suspiciously functional old ice cream maker), had finally been able to recreate it.

“Amortentia Apple,” Draco said, reading the label. “How does that one work?”

“Well, it tastes just like plain old apple unless you’re in love, and then you’ll taste the things or the person you’re most attracted too.”

Draco smirked. “So you’re telling me I’ll taste soft skin and– ” Draco’s eyes flickered down to Florean’s mouth– “sweet sugary lips– ”

“Only if you’re in love,” Florean quickly clarified, ducking down to scoop up the flavour. The whole purpose of this plan was to stop Draco and Harry flirting with him, not encourage it. 

He handed over the two scoop cup and took Draco’s money, watching closely for that first taste. But when Draco brought a spoonful to his mouth, his face fell. 

“I can only taste green apple,” he said bitterly. Green apple and– _oh_.” Draco’s whole face changed and a dark red blush threatened to take it over completely. “Nevermind,” Draco squeaked. “I guess I’m not in love.”

Then, he turned and bolted from the parlour. Florean watched through the window as he hurried along Diagon Alley, all the while shoving heaped spoonfuls of the ice cream into his mouth. Success! Phase Two was complete.

Later that night, Harry arrived just as expected about ten minutes before a 6pm close. Florean busied himself with counting the takings from the day, not wanting to give his excitement away. 

Harry leaned over the counter, pushing his hair away from his eyes (where it promptly fell right back down). “I’ve been thinking,” he said. 

“Good for you,” Florean said, not looking up from the coin register. 

“You and I should stop meeting like this.”

“Then stop purchasing ice cream from my parlour.”

Harry chuckled at the unintended joke. “No, I mean, we should meet elsewhere. Like. Um. On a date.”

Florean dropped a stack of sickles onto the floor. “I have a– ”

“Potter!”

Florean had never been so grateful for Draco’s arrival.

Harry swivelled around. “Malfoy?”

“Are you flirting with _my_ ice cream boy?” 

Florean’s gratitude quickly disappeared. “My _name_ is– ”

“ _Your_ ice cream boy? Florean is _mine_.”

“Actually– ”

“He’s paid to smile at you, Potter, don’t go reading into his hospitality.”

“Funny you should say– ”

“Oh and I suppose he just adores you, Malfoy. Did you win him over with your _charming_ personality?”

“Maybe I did.”

Harry snorted. “You have about as much charm as a mountain troll.”

“You would know– ”

"Are you two going to bicker in the middle of my parlour all night or are you going to buy some ice cream?” Florean interrupted, holding out a cone for Harry and a cup for Draco. Phase three. 

“What’s this?” Harry asked as he took the cone.

“Well, what does it taste like?” Florean asked. 

Draco accepted his cup of ice cream, absent-mindedly bringing the spoon to his lips but his eyes were fixed on Harry’s ice cream cone as Harry took a tentative lick. “Well?” Draco prompted.

“Wow,” Harry said, his eyes lighting up. “It’s like treacle tart and something sour but I can’t place it. It’s so familiar. Oh I know, it’s kind of like– ” Harry paused mid sentence and turned to Florean. “What did you say this flavour was?”

“Amortentia Apple,” Florean happily supplied. 

Harry’s face hardened.

“What’s the familiar taste?” Draco asked. 

“I told you I don’t know,” Harry answered without looking away from Florean. If looks could kill, Florean knew he’d have dropped dead three times over by now. 

“You must know,” Draco insisted. 

Harry killed Florean with his eyes one more time, then turned to face Draco, arms crossed. “Why are you so interested?”

Draco snorted. “Because I want you to taste me like I tasted you obviously.” There was a beat until Draco realised what he’d said and his eyes widened. “In the ice cream,” he hastily added and then frowned like that wasn’t what he was supposed to say either. “I had it last time I was here. It tasted like the inside of your mouth the other night at The Leaky Cauldron when we got drunk and played chicken. I think I'm in– "

Draco clapped a hand over his mouth, stopping himself from saying anything further. After a moment he dropped it. He turned to Florean. “What did you give me?"

“Veritaserum Vanilla,” Florean said. He couldn’t help but smile a little. It was all too easy.

“The inside of my mouth, huh?”

Draco didn’t answer Harry but his face turned bright red. “I want my money back,” he said to Florean. 

“You’ve haven’t paid me anything yet.”

“Then I’m not paying you,” he said, dumping the ice cream cup on the counter. 

Florean rolled his eyes. It never failed to amuse him how it was always the rich who were tight with their money. He made himself comfortable leaning over the counter with his chin in his hand. The show was about to begin. 

“ _Malfoy_ ,” Harry said as Draco made to leave. 

“I don’t want to talk you, Potter.”

Harry took a hold of Draco’s elbow. “But– ”

“ _Potter_ ,” Draco warned. 

“Just let me talk for a minute.”

“Fine.” Draco turned on the spot, his eyes staring past Harry. “You have sixty seconds.”

Florean looked to Harry, awaiting the cinematic declaration of love, but Harry didn’t say anything. He was staring at Draco blankly, the Amortentia Apple ice cream dripping down the sides of its cone and onto his hand. 

“Thirty seconds, Potter.”

Harry remained still and silent like he’d just had a scoop of Stunning Strawberry. Florean couldn’t believe all his hard work was going to be wasted simply because The Boy Who Lived, the same person who had faced Voldemort head on in combat, couldn’t just tell the boy he so obviously liked how he felt. 

“Fifteen.”

Draco’s face was hardening by the second. There was no way Harry would ever get close enough for another chance after this. Why wasn’t he saying anything? Did Florean really have to do everything himself? 

“5…4…”

Florean leaned forward and held the abandoned cup of Veritaserum Vanilla under Harry’s nose. Harry, to his credit, obediently shoved a spoonful into his mouth. 

“Aiinkiluboo-oo,” he finally said. 

“Excuse me?”

Harry swallowed. “I think I love you too.”

Florean silently cheered and turned to Draco for his reaction. However, apparently, it was now Draco’s turn to become a statue. He stared frozen back at Harry, the only indication he'd heard the declaration the bright red colour of his face. Honestly, these two were the most hopeless men Florean had ever had the displeasure of meeting.

Florean turned back to Harry, hoping he might have another move up his sleeve, but Harry was looking his way with wide panicked eyes that Florean could only translate to mean:

_What do I do now?_

_Say something else romantic, you ridiculous idiot!_ Florean shot back with his own eyes. 

It was unclear whether Harry got the message or not. Regardless, he refocused his attention back on Draco and smiled. Florean relaxed. It seemed The Boy Who Lived had finally regained his confidence and was about to say something sappy and sweet and– 

“Want to taste the inside of my mouth again?”

Florean facepalmed in disbelief. These two were spoiling their own relationship before it had even begun. 

“Shut up, Potter,” Draco mumbled, but he didn’t sound like he was ready to hex Harry. In fact–

Florean snapped his head up. Yes– Draco was smiling too now. And Harry was taking a step closer, finally making a move. There was a determined look in his eyes and Florean was certain he was actually going to say something romantic this time–

“Make me.”

Despite the line managing to be both unromantic and cliched, to Florean’s absolute shock, it worked. Draco kissed Harry. The Amortentia Apple ice cream cone fell to the floor, forgotten, and Harry brought his sticky hands up to run through Draco’s hair. 

Florean had to turn away at that. Wasting ice cream was _tolerable_ provided it was a one-off, but poor ice cream hygiene was inexcusable. While the two lovebirds went at it, Florean busied himself with packing up the parlour for the day. It always took him some time – he didn’t have the luxury of magic to assist him – but even after all the seats had been stacked on the tables, the floor mopped and all the ice cream stored away, Harry and Draco were _still_ kissing. 

Florean cleared his throat. Once. Twice. Three times. “So I guess you’re rescinding that date offer,” he said loudly. 

They broke apart. When the dazed look passed, Harry, at least, had the decency to look ashamed.

“Oh, Florean, I’m so sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to lead you on.”

Draco ran a hand through his hair and made a disgusted face – he’d clearly discovered the sticky remnants of Harry’s ice cream. “Like he was ever going to choose you over me,” he said with a scoff. 

“You two do realise I’m not interested in either of you, right?”

They both started at Florean blankly. Clearly, this had never occurred to them. 

“Whatever. I’m closing up now so you need to stop making out in the middle of my parlour.” Florean pulled out a two scoop cup of ice cream he’d pre-made especially and pushed it over the counter. “Have a Frisky Firewhisky to share on the house. Just take it outside and promise  _never_ to flirt with me again.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Draco said. “Harry will never so much as look at another man again, you have my word.”

“And I’ll be sure to keep Draco _well occupied_.”

They embraced and Florean was worried they were going to return to making out but Harry turned his head before they could. “Thank you, Florean,” he said, then he twisted on the spot and apparated away, taking Draco with him. 

Florean shook his head but he was smiling. As annoying as they both were, he was glad to have helped them find each other. 

There was a light rap at the front door of the parlour and Florean looked up sharply –  _please let them not be back already_. But his panic was short-lived, it was not Harry and Draco, but someone much more welcome. 

Florean ran to the door and poked his head out. His boyfriend, Andreas, stood there shyly, holding a ridiculously large bouquet of flowers in one fist that Florean didn’t think he’d be able to carry in his two much smaller hands. 

“What are you doing here? How did you get into Diagon Alley?” 

Andreas shrugged. “I wanted to surprise you. I just followed some boney kid with hair like yours through the pub. It was pretty obvious he was a wizard from the black robes.”

Florean leant up on his toes and kissed his boyfriend on the cheek. “I am so relieved you know how to properly romance a man,” he said with a happy sigh. “Stay here while I finish locking up.”

Florean quickly ran through the parlour and locked the back door. He couldn’t be happier to be going home. As he made his way back to the front with the parlour keys, he noticed the Frisky Firewhisky ice cream still sitting on the counter. Harry and Draco had forgotten it. _Oh well_ , Florean thought, it wasn’t like they needed it anyway. He was about to toss it in the bin but he stopped himself. Someone might as well enjoy it, and it was his favourite flavour after all. He joined Andreas outside and locked the door.

“You’ll never guess the day I’ve had,” he said, as they headed towards The Leaky Cauldron. 

“No,” Andreas said, eyeing the distinctively firewhisky coloured ice cream Florean was holding, “but I’m pretty certain where tonight’s heading.”

Florean giggled. He’d only had one spoonful, but he could already feel the subtle effect of the magic working. It couldn’t create something that wasn’t there, only amplify it, and Florean was _very_ attracted to his boyfriend. Not for his messy black hair or his blue-grey eyes – although they were certainly bonuses – but for his gentle hands and his gentler heart.

“So tell me about this day, then,” Andreas said. “Whose lives did you meddle with this time?”

Florean laughed. “Meddle is a strong word,” he said, holding out a spoonful for Andreas. “No, I just serve ice cream.” 

 


	2. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because the birthday girl asked for it <3

** ***DRACO*** **

Draco stared at the invitation, having to strain his eyes to read the elegant cursive script. “Potter!” 

Harry poked his head out from the bathroom. “Stop calling me that.”

“You weren’t complaining earlier this morning.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “That’s different. When we’re not having sex, it’s weird.”

“We _could_ be having sex. That is, if you think you can handle another round…”

“Is that a challenge?”

Draco shrugged, laying back on the bed and throwing the invitation aside. “I’ll let you decide what constitutes a challenge…Potter.”

**…43 minutes later…**

“Do we know anyone called Andreas?”

Harry leant up on his elbows and peered over at Draco. “You were thinking about some other dude while we were fucking?”

Draco smirked. “Jealous?”

“Not at all. I know how obsessed you are with me. Who’s Andreas?”

“No idea,” Draco said, leaning around the bed to retrieve the discarded invitation from the floor, “but he’s invited us to his wedding.” He passed the invitation to Harry. 

“Accio glasses."

“At least pretend like you need a wand.”

Harry laughed as he put on his glasses and accidentally poked himself in the eye. He turned to Draco with an exaggerated smoulder. “I need _your_ wand.”

“If you ever refer to my cock in that way again,” Draco said seriously, “I will break up with you.”

Harry laughed again – clearly, he didn’t realise Draco was not joking – and scanned the invitation. “You’re invited to the wedding of Andreas Andrews and Florean Fortescue the third,” he read aloud. “Oh! It’s ice cream boy.”

“Ice cream boy?” Draco asked.

“He runs the ice cream parlour in Diagon Alley.”

Draco stared at Harry blankly.

“Where we had our second kiss.”

Draco thought back to when he and Harry had first gotten together. A flash of drunken anxiety and hands shaking with the effort of remaining at their sides sprang into his mind but he quickly dismissed it. That was their first kiss. Their second, that was sticky hands and cold tongues. Draco strained his mind further trying to think of anything other than Harry’s mouth. 

“The one with the green eyes?” He asked as a familiar face popped into his head. 

‘And the sexy hair, yeah.”

Draco chose to ignore Harry’s commentary. He refused to be jealous of a man whose wedding invite was printed on paper barely 200gsm in thickness. “He has a boyfriend already?”  It had only been a few weeks since he and Harry had hooked up. 

“A fiancé I guess.”

Draco snorted disapprovingly. “He didn’t waste any time. I bet he’s still pining over me.”

“You? He was going to go on a date with me.”

“If that is the case, then he truly has the most awful taste.”

“Like you, you mean?”

Draco realised what he’d said. “Touché, Potter.”

“You really need to stop saying that– ”

“–unless we’re having sex. I’m well aware of the rules. Are you?”

Harry threw the invitation back onto the floor. 

 

** ***HARRY*** **

 

“The decor is rather static, wouldn’t you think?”

Harry shrugged, staring up at the balloon arch outside the wedding hall. “It’s a muggle wedding, Draco, that’s kind of a given.”

“That is entirely untrue. In this year’s issue of Cheshire Bride, there was an example of the most delightful muggle wedding with revolving lights and an artificial river that ran the full length of the church. Not to mention in last year’s issue– “

“You read muggle wedding magazines?”

“Muggles are quite fascinating, you know. I’d strongly recommend reading outside the wizarding world’s prescribed literature, Potter.”

“It’s not the muggle part I was most surp– wait, we can’t have sex here!”

“Why not? We’re 27 minutes early and there’s a perfectly good coat checkroom just behind you.”

**…26 minutes later…**

“Harry, Draco, thanks for coming.”

Harry spun around as he finished retucking his shirt. Florean Fortescue the third stood at the entrance to the wedding hall in a bright turquoise tuxedo, a bouquet of pink and yellow flowers in his hands. 

“Of course,” Harry said quickly, hoping Florean wouldn’t notice Draco’s unkempt hair or the missing button on his shirt. “We wouldn’t miss it for all the ice cream in the world.” 

“Please ignore Harry’s cheesy phrasing,” Draco added, “but the sentiment is true. Thank you kindly for the invitation.”

“I felt obliged to invite you,” Florean said, “because it was the two of you that inspired me to propose in the first place.”

“You were going to propose to both of us?” Harry asked.

Draco nudged Harry. “Surely you mean just me?”

“Propose to you two?” Florean threw back his head and laughed. “No, I meant quite the opposite. You made me realise how incredibly lucky I am to have a man like Andreas in my life.” Florean smiled brightly as he said his fiancé’s name. “You should take your seats,” he said pushing them into the hall, ”I’m about to make my entrance.”

Harry and Draco scrambled into the hall and took the only remaining seats at the back of the room. Harry craned his neck over the crowd to get a glimpse at Florean’s groom, Andreas. 

“What do you suppose he meant?” Draco whispered. “About us inspiring him to propose to some random dude?”

“I don’t know,” Harry whispered back. The only man he could see at the altar was a boring looking man in a plain black tuxedo. He was good-looking but not in a particularly striking way, just sort of so-so. “Maybe he wanted what we have?”

“Yes,” Draco agreed as the entire room turned their heads to watch Florean walk down the aisle, “that must be it.”

Florean was grinning the entire walk up the aisle and Harry couldn’t help but join in. That sort of pure happiness was particularly contagious. He squeezed Draco’s hand. They were still only early into their relationship but images of another wedding played in Harry’s mind with Draco in iridescent wizarding dress robes and surrounding by revolving lights. 

When Florean reached the altar, he did not embrace the boring black tuxedo man. Instead he handed the man his bouquet and stood next to him, turning back to the entrance. Harry followed Florean’s eyes, curious to finally see Andreas.

Draco gasped. 

At the entrance stood a man who could only be a god. He was tall with impossibly broad shoulders and ridiculous muscles between his neck and shoulders that could hardly be useful for anything. His black hair had been scooped up into a messy bun that somehow looked completely in place with his bright pink tuxedo and the turquoise and yellow bouquet in his hands. Then there were his eyes, blue-grey like Draco’s. 

Harry felt his face blushing as he and Draco turned back to the front and saw Florean staring at his future husband with what could only be described as absolute and complete love in his eyes.

“So we never stood a chance did we?” 

“Absolutely none,” Draco whispered back. 

 

** ***FLOREAN*** **

 

Florean hadn’t taken his eyes off his husband since they’d exchanged vows. In fact, he probably wouldn’t have done so for the entire night if it wasn’t for the loud commotion during the reception when Florean had been feeding Andreas a chunk of their mixed ice cream wedding cake. 

In a small corner of the room, a crowd had formed a circle and there were cheers and yells on all sides. Florean approached warily, never letting go of Andreas’ hand. In the centre – Florean should have guessed – were Harry and Draco sitting in chairs facing each other with extremely serious expressions. Harry’s hand was on Draco’s knee, Draco’s hand on Harry’s chest. 

Draco moved his hand down an inch and Harry moved his up in response. 

“What is this?” Florean asked. 

“Chicken,” Harry answered, not taking his eyes off Draco. “I’m winning.”

Draco moved his hand to Harry’s naval. “No, you’re not. You’re about to back down.”

Harry slid his hand further up Draco’s thigh. “You’re the one about to back down.”

Florean closed his eyes for a second, thinking that perhaps when he opened them, this ridiculous scenario would disappear and turn out to have been a daydream. Unfortunately it was not. “Aren’t you two in a relationship now?” He asked.

“Yes,” Draco said with a smirk. “But _Potter_ enjoys a challenge.”

Harry’s jaw visibly clenched but he didn’t look away. There was a determined look in his eye. “So does _Malfoy_.”

Draco immediately stood up, dropping his hand. “Okay, you win," he conceded. The crowd cheered. “Take me home.”

It was Harry’s turn to smirk. “Gladly,” he said, following Draco’s lead and standing up. They both turned to Florean.

“Thank you for having us,” Harry said politely. 

“Never again,” Florean muttered under his breath.

“It’s been a pleasure,” Draco added. 

“Not at all,” Florean muttered again.

The two embraced to apparate away but Florean did not fail to notice how both their eyes flicked over to Andreas for one last lingering look. Florean smiled to himself. He really was the lucky one. He returned his eyes to his husband, where they would surely now remain for the rest of the night. 

Andreas was staring right back down at Florean, a wide smile on his face.

“What?” Florean asked. 

“I was just thinking how lucky I am to be your husband.”

“No you weren’t.”

“It's true. That’s all I’ve thinking this entire day.”

Florean beamed and leant up on his toes. “I love you, Andreas Andrews.”

Andreas kissed him softly, and Florean could taste the remaining Veritserum Vanilla on his tongue. “I love you too, Florean Fortescue the third.”

**Author's Note:**

> Love you chibaken! Happy birthday again!
> 
> If anyone's feeling nostalgic, here's last year's birthday fic: [November Third](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12852030)


End file.
